


You Look Better With a Hangover

by TallDarkandNerdy



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: And the denial, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, Friends to Lovers, Humor, M/M, Really heavy on the bromance, They have no clue what they did the night before, other characters to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-06-07 15:45:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6811699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TallDarkandNerdy/pseuds/TallDarkandNerdy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If there was anything Leo had learned from this, it was to never drink with a Hoshidan royal again.</p>
<p>Because, as it turned out, waking up in bed together was the least of their problems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Whoa okay, so I've always been a huge fan of "Morning After Misadventure" tropes, so it was a pleasant surprise to actually write one of these babies. Strange how it morphed from a witty banter drabble to a multi-chapter fic about drunken shenanigans, but I'm never one to complain about the creative thought process.
> 
> Not gunna lie, this is going to be a little slow-burny when it comes to these two actually getting together. But it's not really a slow-burn...what's that even called? Lukewarm simmer? Mild boil?
> 
> Anyway. Enjoy the sweet medium-heat Tomato/Pineapple loving.

It wasn't that Leo _hated_ parties, per say. Depending on who was attending and what was being celebrated, he could enjoy himself as much as any partygoer. It was particularly enjoyable when his family attended with him; they could, in those rare instances when Xander wasn't locked away reading strategic documents, enjoy themselves and behave like siblings.

Tonight, however, he would've rather snuck away to his quarters.

Leo looked around as the party swung into motion. The news of Prince Ryouma’s birthday counted as a much-needed distraction from the nightmares of war. Even his Nohrian allies, who would've happily seen the Hoshidan’s head perched atop a lance only a few weeks ago, we're all too eager to clear the field where they settled their camp and transform it into a festival courtyard.

Leo sat on a bench along the edge of the party, placed far enough to prevent being pulled into the crowd of happily drinking soldiers but close enough to hear the soft-pitched notes of the musical ensemble’s wind instruments and the laughter of his sisters. They made their rounds across the terrace, making small talk with members of both countries and pulling unsuspecting partygoers into dances.

Elise tried to tug him over to join the dancing, but he politely declined. She looked disappointed, but kissed him on the cheek anyway and allowed him to sit alone while she ran back to the group.

It was not as though he outwardly objected to the party, but he could see no reason for becoming this vulnerable in the middle of a deadly war. The excessive drinking, the loud music, the concernedly low number of on-duty sentries didn’t sit well with Leo. A well-crafted ambush from enemy mobs could have caught them off-guard and ruin what momentum they’ve been building as a troop for days.

But if it helped to ease the wary souls and minds of his allies, Leo was satisfied.

He was halfway through the book he brought to keep himself entertained when he was interrupted a second time.

“Enjoying your evening?”

Leo recognized the voice of Hoshido’s second prince instantly, and didn’t bother to look up. “Yes, I am completely enraptured,” he quipped right as he flipped another page.

“I dunno. Who’d be reading a book at a party if they were excited by it?” There was a pause. “Are you bored?”

There was something about his tone that made him seem completely meaningful, as though he were truly curious about why he’d be reading at a time like this. The thought made him smile and he was thankful it was hidden behind his book. “You’re a master of deduction, Prince Takumi.”

He snorted loudly (even louder than usual), and perhaps it was Leo’s fault for not registering something was different about Takumi when the other prince sat _too close_  next to him. But he was invested in his story and knew that it wasn’t unusual for Hoshidans to be more lax in their ideology about personal space, so he thought little about Takumi’s behavior when he leaned closer to look over his shoulder. “What’re you reading?”

“Historical account of the Treaty of Balzane,” he hummed. “I’ll let you borrow it when I’m finished with it, if you like.” He turned another page, but froze when Takumi giggled— _giggled—_ and rested his head against this shoulder.

 “You’d really let me borrow it?” Takumi asked, as though they hadn’t already traded hundreds of books and scrolls since they became allies under the same army. He clung against his side and nuzzled his shoulder, the loose strands of hair from his ponytail tickling the nape of Leo’s neck. “What a pal!”

What the hell?

Leo flinched away from the contact and finally looked up. “What are you doing?”

Once his chosen leaning pole had pulled away from him, Takumi slumped his side against the back of the bench. “Nothin’,” he said, but this time Leo was paying close attention and picked up the subtle slur in his voice. “Can’t I hang out with my best buddy?”

Leo watched him suspiciously. Flushed cheeks, hazy eyes, slurred voice. “You’re drunk,” he accused.

“Uh-uh,” Takumi corrected, and scooted closer into Leo’s personal bubble. “I’m tipsy, there’s a huge difference.”

Leo narrowed his eyes and leaned backward. “And what’s that?”

Takumi’s smile turned mischievous. “I’m still conscious enough to know that you’re a total buzz kill.”

The blond thinned his lips. “Really.”

“Truly!”

Leo clicked his tongue and glanced down at the cup in his hand, full to the brim with red wine. “How many more of those will get you to pass out and leave me alone?”

The prince looked down at the glass in his hand, but laughed, “Wouldn’t _you_ like to know. Besides, this is yours!”

“Mine?”

“Mm-hm! Just the thing for a buzz kill like you. I heard you could even become a fun human being after a few sips, imagine that.” Takumi shoved the drink into Leo’s free hand without managing to spill anything onto Leo’s crisp eveningwear.

Leo looked down at the glass, but shook his head and handed it back to the archer. “I don’t like red wine.”

“But it’s the best red wine in the Hoshidan countryside,” he tempted, sounding like a parent trying to persuade his child to take ill-tasting medicine.

“Takumi, I’m not going to drink it.”

“Buzz kill,” Takumi taunted. “I knew Nohrians were total lightweights, but this is ridiculous—”

That was it. “Give me the glass,” he demanded, but snatched it from his hand before he could pass it back. He grimaced down at his reflection, but pushed his distaste back in order to take a sip. The wine was too sweet for his liking, much more pungent than the subtler tones of a dry white wine he’d enjoy while spending a night alone in his library, but the challenging look on the other’s face made him take another sip.

And another.

And another, until his head was thrown back to drain the cup.

Takumi grinned and crossed his arms smugly. “Was that so hard?”

Leo coughed and blinked rapidly when the room started to shift along the corners of his vision, but he met Takumi’s gaze and was sober enough to shove the empty glass against his chest. “Of course not,” he scoffed. “Happy now?”

Takumi clutched the glass and looked away thoughtfully. “Mm…no. You still sound like a buzz kill.” He hopped off the bench—perhaps too quickly, if the way he stumbled forward and struggled to regain his balance implied anything—and added, “Another drink’ll help!” He pulled on Leo’s arm to get him up, and didn’t notice the odd looks they got when he pushed them past groups of allies and soldiers. Leo tried to apologize for the shorter man’s behavior as they passed, but most of his efforts were set on tugging himself free from Takumi’s grasp.

“Let go of me, damn it,” he hissed. “You’re making a scene.”

“Am not,” Takumi protested. “How’re we making a scene?”

Yes, Leo thought sarcastically, how could the image of the two princes bashing into unsuspecting partygoers hand-in-hand go unnoticed? “You’re holding my hand like a lovesick maiden. Who’s not going to notice?” He hoped that would’ve made Takumi self-conscious enough to let go and give Leo the chance to escape, but the other twined their fingers together and squeezed out of spite.

“Everyone’s too busy enjoying themselves. Unlike you, you…um.”

Leo smirked as they got to the refreshment tables. “Alcohol does wonders for your quick wit.”

“Shut up!” He finally let go of the blonde’s hand and reached for one of the jugs of wine. He refilled the glass he carried back and poured a second cup for himself while Leo looked on cautiously. He held out the glass for him, and tilted his head when Leo didn’t immediately take it. “It’s not going to kill you to unwind a little,” he said, voice tinted with disappointment.

Leo raised an eyebrow, but glanced between the cup and Takumi and sighed. Underneath Takumi’s alcohol-addled mind were only good intentions, even if those good intentions involved _more_ alcohol.

He hesitantly took the glass and shrugged. “I’ll have to say yes if you’re going to be this insistent,” he complained, but felt his stomach jump when Takumi’s frown shifted into a pleased smile. He looked down at the glass—that first cup must’ve affected him more than he thought.

Takumi didn’t notice his unease, and clinked their glasses together. “That’s the spirit!”

Leo rolled his eyes, but watched as Takumi downed half his drink in an impressively small amount of time. Takumi coughed, but smiled triumphantly as though getting Leo to join him in having a drink was a bragging victory.

He took a deep breath and drank.

* * *

 

When Leo awoke the next morning, he was met with the sound of birds chirping outside his tent a throbbing headache. He groaned from the unfamiliar pain that attacked his temples and back of his head, and tried futilely to open his eyes. How could anyone wake up to this kind of condition on a regular basis?

Usually Leo was the first in their camp to wake up, right before the sun was rising over the horizon and the camp they built was still quiet and abandoned. He would slip into warm clothes and head to the makeshift stables to warm up his steed before the rest of the riders crowded the safe riding areas.

But today he was lucky he even regained consciousness. He squeezed his eyelids shut from the sunlight that slipped through the flaps of the tent and hit his face, but the light was still too blinding to ignore. He groaned and tried to shift to his side, but his body resisted as though a warm heavy weight were pressing him down. The prince slapped his free hand over his eyes instead, his other hand still stroking silky locks of hair—

Leo’s eyes snapped open.

He squinted when the glare of the sun momentarily blinded him, but once his eyes began to adjust he glanced around the tent. Clothes were strewn in disarray around his quarters in a mess that Leo would _never_ make if he were sober. Underneath his wrinkled dress shirt that draped over his table, he could see two half-empty glasses of wine.

Two glasses…

Even after waking up and seeing the extent of the damage from last night, Leo was reluctant to look down at whoever was snuggling up against him. Because that would mean that, yes, he is in bed with someone wearing only his smallclothes and the implications of what happened couldn’t be clearer. But he wasn’t a coward, and looked down.

What he found was Takumi, face cushioned against his chest and arms wrapped possessively around his waist as though he were hugging his favorite stuffed toy.

Leo would have found it hilarious if he weren’t the stuffed toy’s replacement.

For a moment Leo wasn’t sure if he could say anything to stir the other prince, and worried that the realization of what he’d woken up to left him in more shock than he anticipated. He cleared his throat nevertheless and tried. “Takumi,” he said softly, “wake up.”

Takumi shifted in his sleep and tightened his grip around Leo’s waist, further entangling them. His hair, undone from his usual ponytail style, cascaded over his shoulders and brushed Leo’s collarbone.

“Takumi,” he tried once more, this time nudging his shoulder. “You need to wake up now and let go of me.” He tried to wriggle his way out from his grip, but Takumi clung to him like an octopus and murmured incoherently against this bare chest, his soft lips grazing—

Leo gave a swift kick to his shin.

“ _OW.”_ The Hoshidan prince yelped and pulled away, reeling from the crash of consciousness and the throb in his lower right leg. “What the fuck,” he tried to snap, but moaned a second later and clutched his head.

Leo could not find it in him to feel empathetic, and instead scoffed. “That’s what I’d like to know.”

Takumi paused, and glanced over at Leo as though he wasn’t just spooning his side. “Leo…?” His eyes narrowed warily—both from the unexpected guest and the sun hitting his face—and trailed his eyes around the bed.

“Why…” he whispered, pulling the blanket up his chest self-consciously, “why are you in bed? With me?”

“I don’t know.”

"Did we—?”

“I said I _don’t know_.” Leo hesitated. “...But the evidence seems to swing that way.”

Takumi stared, as though he were waiting for Leo to break into a grin and tell him he was joking (Leo wished he could), but when there wasn’t a punch-line to justify what happened he turned an impressive shade of red and covered his hands with his face. “Holy shit…”

Leo scoffed, but crossed his arms over his chest to conceal his own growing sheepishness; he couldn’t have stated it better.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His father told him when he was a child that one of the weakest moves a man could make was denial. It was drilled into young Prince Leo’s head every time he was accused of stealing a raspberry tart scone from the kitchens or cried too hard from losing a pet that real men—real soldiers—needed to take whatever consequences emerged from the obstacles thrown at them.
> 
> As he stretched his sore legs and felt his temples pulse uncomfortably from the sound of chattering crows outside his tent, however, Leo felt tempted to disagree: denial would be a perfectly reasonable solution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I could think about while writing this chapter was, what would make this series of awkward encounters even better?
> 
> A ridiculously suggestive retainer, that's what.

His father told him when he was a child that one of the weakest moves a man could make was denial. It was a sign of cowardice, for denying what had occurred implied a reluctance to accept reality as it was. It was drilled into young Prince Leo’s head every time he was accused of stealing a raspberry tart scone from the kitchens or cried too hard from losing a pet that real men—real soldiers—needed to take whatever consequences emerged from the obstacles thrown at them.

As he stretched his sore legs and felt his temples pulse uncomfortably from the sound of chattering crows outside his tent, however, Leo felt tempted to disagree: denial would be a perfectly reasonable solution.

But Leo was never one to hide behind denial. And he certainly wasn’t about to let the man who started this mess wallow in denial, either.

“Um…” He forced his gaze from his lap to look at Takumi. He’s been able to stare diplomats from countless countries down in war meetings and social events since he was a child, but it took far more effort than he would admit to try to meet Takumi’s gaze. Thankfully, the prince sill had his face buried in his hands. “This doesn’t necessarily mean what we’re assuming happened.”

Takumi mumbled, and shook his head.

Leo clicked his tongue. “You need to speak up. I can’t hear you—“

“I said you’re too loud.” Takumi moved his hands away from his face, one reaching up to rub circles into his forehead while the other tried to disentangle a few stray locks.

“It’s not _my_ fault you’re hung-over,” he defended himself, and purposefully resisted clutching his own head when he tilted it sharply. “You’re the one who wanted us to have a few drinks.”

“Only to help you wind down! You brought a book to the feast last night. A _book._ Who brings a book to the middle of a party?!” He gave up untangling his hair and looked around in distaste. “The one time I don’t have a ribbon handy—”

“Takumi.” He shook his arm to grab his attention; he wasn’t going to let the prince delve into off-topic complaints when they hadn’t even “I know this is tough to swallow, but shut _up._ The best-case scenario is that we collapsed here after the party.”

Takumi tore his arm back as though the contact stung him, but faltered when he tried to argue. He looked almost as conflicted as Leo felt. “You have a point,” he admitted. He glanced towards him, making eye contact with him for the first time since they woke up; his eyes were still bloodshot and heavy-lidded from sleep and post-alcohol consumption. “And, you’re not—“ he started, but paused mid-sentence.

Leo raised an eyebrow, waiting expectantly.

Takumi gave him a once over, lingering from his neckline to his lap, and shrugged sheepishly. “You’re not sore, are you?”

Leo stared. He thinned his lips. “Why would _I_ be sore,” he asked, accusations clear in his tone.

Takumi bristled. “Well I wouldn’t be!”

“Yeah, right.”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“It means I wouldn’t trust someone who specializes in long-distance combat to take charge with something this delicate. _I_ have better experience.”

They glared at each other, but the squawk of birds congregating outside the tent made them simultaneously aware of what they were arguing about. They looked away, flinching as if they’d been burned.

“I think,” he started, and placed his hands on his lap as though he were about to make a comment at a war meeting, “I think the best thing we could do is assume nothing happened last night and continue out friendship normally.” Neither he nor Takumi seemed confident about it, but it was better than remaining quietly uncertain. Or, he thought with a snort, argue about who might have topped in the midst of their drunken adventure.

“Sounds good to me.”

“Perfect. Now get out of my bed.”

Takumi wrinkled his nose, all previous apprehension gone. “We definitely didn’t do anything. You have the bedside manner of a tactless virgin.”

The emphasis was totally meant to get a rise out of him, but he grew more amused than insulted. “Oh really?” Leo felt a grin spread slowly over his face. “How would you know about bedside manners? From your sisters’ romance books?” Granted, he had read a few of those gaudy romantic pieces of trash himself in moments of boredom or a lack of unread material in the library, but he would never waste the chance to tease him.

He didn’t miss the way Takumi’s cheeks lit up as he tried to appear justifiably offended. “Don’t be stupid; no one would want to be with anyone that blunt, that’s all! You have to be,” he tried to find the right word, and waved his hand, “’sensitive.’”

“By the Gods, you’re such a sap.” He leaned closer and jabbed his forefinger into his shoulder. “Would you like me to whisper tacky poems in your ear and hire someone to throw flower petals over us?” He only narrowly missed the elbow aimed at his gut, but didn’t miss the fleeting smile Takumi hid when he turned away and felt himself relax. This was normal. He could deal with the usual bickering. “Okay, _princess_ , would you please get out of my bed? You’re not helping my headache and you drooled all over my sheets. Better?”

“Even worse,” Takumi quipped, but maneuvered to the side of the bed. He threw his legs over to stand up, but froze as an afterthought struck him and whipped his arm back to pull up the covers around his bare torso. “Hey, um, turn around for a sec!”

“Excuse me?”

“Just…don’t look!”

Leo scoffed and crossed his arms. “You can’t be serious. We woke up in bed together practically naked, and _now_ you’re self-conscious?”

“That doesn’t count, shut up.” He wrapped the blankets around him and glared over his shoulder. It would have been more intimidating if his hair wasn’t sticking up at all ends or his cheek weren’t puffed out like an angry squirrel.

Leo sighed and turned away. “Happy?”

There was a gripe, followed by the shuffling of cloth and the creaking of his bed. Leo took it as his cue to get out of bed himself, and scanned his side of his tent: his dress clothes from the night before were sprawled haphazardly across his floor. He bent down to grab his pants, but stopped when he saw grass stains spattered across his pants. “Ew.” He grimaced, and examined his crumpled shirt (it was in no better condition). “What _did_ we do last night?”

“I don’t want to know,” Takumi answered, using a tone that implied his clothes were in no better shape.

Throwing the ruined pants and shirt to a corner, Leo pulled out a new set of clothes. He, at least, was lucky to have fresh soft clothes; Takumi would have to trek across camp where the Hoshidan royals set their tents in day-old eveningwear. Something about that uncomfortable image almost made up for his lack of memory of the night before.

They dressed in silence—the only sounds were the quiet shuffles of clothing and Takumi trying (and failing) to find his hair band. Leo had just finished buttoning up his shirt when his eye caught on an unfamiliar piece of jewelry on the edge of his end table. It wasn’t anything extravagant, only a long chain with a gold-banded ring in place of a pendent. He inspected the necklace, twirling the thin chain around his fingers and admiring the shine it made when the sunlight struck it. He turned to Takumi and held it up. “Is this yours?”

Takumi was half-dressed by now, and paused from fastening the bottom layer of his tunic to glance at the chain. “I’ve never seen it before,” he said, but winced a moment later. “Do you think we took it from someone?”

“Seems to be the case.” Leo grimaced as well; he didn’t look forward explaining to whomever the owner was how their gold necklace happened to end up in his tent. He threw it across the bed with a shrug, where it landed on Takumi’s fur dress-belt. “Good luck with that.”

“Me?” The archer paused. “Why am I stuck with this?”

“Who was responsible for getting us drunk?”

“Seriously?” He turned away, irritation written on his expression, but conceded. “Fine, I’ll deal with it. _I’ll_ be the bigger man and take responsibility for it!”

“Good.”

“That’s more admirable!”

Leo hummed in agreement. “You can be as admirable as you like, I’m not holding onto it.” He could feel Takumi’s scowl dig into his back as he muttered in Hoshidan; he smiled, satisfied.

Takumi pocketed the necklace and slipped on the rest of his clothes without feeling the need to give him another half-hearted glare. “And what’ll I say to the owner when I find them?”

Leo shrugged. “Not my problem now.”

“Wow. You’re a real piece of work.” Takumi looked at him with a frown, but there was something soft in his gaze that disarmed the tension that kept niggling Leo all morning. “So—meet you at the mess hall for lunch?”

Leo blinked in surprise, but nodded. “As usual.”

“And we’re going to forget any of this happened?”

The phantom feeling of Takumi’s cheek pressed against his chest lingered insistently. He brushed it off and nodded, turning to make his bed. “Absolutely.”

Takumi pressed his lips together, but shrugged. “Glad we’re on the same page!” He headed out, but paused before he opened the flap of the tent. “Oh, Leo?”

The prince glanced up. Takumi stood in the entranceway, hair sticking up in all ends and collar askew. He was smiling softly, as though they hadn’t bitched over whether or not they slept together. Leo cleared his throat. “Yes?”

His smile turned cheeky. “Your shirt’s inside out.”

Leo looked down at the front of his shirt. “Damn it.” He changed out of his shirt to remedy the mistake, cursing as his ear lobe was snagged in the rush. “That doesn’t usually—” he started, but stopped when he noticed Takumi had left. Even the birds had flown from the top of hi tent, and for the first time this morning Leo was completely alone.

Now what?

Leo exhaled tiredly and flopped backwards onto his half-made bed. It wasn’t even mid-morning yet and he was already exhausted. “Never again,” he promised himself, and threw an arm over his eyes. His head ached and his quarters were an uncharacteristic mess, but he allowed himself to throw his self-driven responsibility away long enough to let his eyes flutter closed.

* * *

_“I’m hot!”_

_“Shhhhh, shush, you’ll…you’ll wake the others.”_

_“I’m hoooot.” The voice attempted to whisper, but it came out as a whine instead. The voice’s owner settled his head against Leo’s shoulder, leaving him to trek them both across camp._

_Despite telling the prince to be quiet, Leo complained loudly, “You could help, y’brat. I know your legs work.”_

_Takumi said nothing, but he could tell from the way the dead weight against his side instantly grew heavier that he was trying to prove him wrong. Leo stumbled to the side—he was barely able to keep himself straight, he thought belatedly—and tightened his arm’s grip around Takumi’s waist. “You’re **such** a baby.”_

_Takumi grumbled incoherently against his shirt, but finally stopped letting his feet drag and helped him walk down the aisle of dark tents. It somehow made them stumble even more, though, and for a moment Leo wished he were strong enough like Xander and pick Takumi up to carry him the rest of the way. Like a princess. A whiny, clingy princess._

_He imagined Takumi in a puffy purple ballroom gown and laughed. “You’d look good in purple.”_

_“W’as that?”_

_“Nothin’.”_

* * *

Leo jolted awake when he heard the flap of his tent shift open and a familiar voice laugh softly. “Had a good evening, milord?”

With a sigh, Leo peeled his arm away from his eyes and turned to his retainer. “Haven’t I told you to knock before entering?”

“You did,” Niles said, “and I did. But you were fast asleep and I took your gentle snores as a welcome.” He leaned against the side of the entrance, wearing a grin that was better suited for a Cheshire cat. He strolled into the room and settled himself on the end on his bed. “For someone who had so much fun last night, I’m surprised to see you’re still in bed. I was hoping we could get some lunch and discuss how to prevent Odin from sabotaging the nursery’s staff with new baby names.”

Leo rolled his eyes, but winced when the movement caused his head to throb incessantly. “At this point I’m ready to wait out the war here,” he complained.

Niles chuckled. “You didn’t enjoy last night? You looked like you had a blast.”

Leo hesitated, but admitted, “I don’t remember much of anything. It’s annoying.”

“I always found a little blackout adds some spice to a party.”

“Of course you would.” He sat up and stretched his arms over his head until his sore limbs unraveled knots and relaxed. The discomfort returned as soon as he lowered his arms, and he sighed. “I’ll be lucky if I don’t look as terrible as I feel.”

Niles shrugged, but his smile didn’t wear off. “You look good with a hangover, my liege. It brings an edge to your ‘bad boy’ aesthetic that many would find _irresistible_.”

“Are you only here to tease me, or did you actually want something?”

Niles pulled out a small vial and tossed it into his lap. “A few sips of this and I’m sure you’ll be feeling right as rain, milord,” he said.

Leo lifted it up and examined the flask—a vulnerary, perfect for relieving mild pain and other bodily aches. While he tried to reserve these types of medicines for the battlefield or scouting trips, he uncapped the bottle and drained half the serving in one go. The relief he felt his aches and pains already finally began to subside was indescribable. “Thank you, Niles,” he said, and gave him a grateful smile. “I thought I’d never get rid of the discomfort.”

Niles shrugged his shoulders and winked playfully. “The first time’s always more painful. You’ll get used to it.”

Leo blinked, but sat up straighter and gave Niles a blank stare. “Get used to what?”

Niles gave him a practically _sinful_ smile and winked to the best of his abilities. “I know you prefer to have certain formalities between us, but you don’t have to pretend around me.” He leaned closer and whispered curiously, “Has Prince Takumi’s archery practice on the field paid off in the bedroom, milord?~”

Leo wanted to gag. No, scratch that: he wanted to gag Niles.

He turned attention back to his tonic before he could do either. “What would make you even think anything like _that_ happened?”

Nile’s smile dropped a bit and Leo relished the confusion that flickered over his face. “Hm? I did see Lord Takumi sneaking out of your tent a little while ago—it was almost cute that he thought he could lurk away in broad daylight.” He gave Leo an unconvinced look and added, “Was I wrong to think something happened between you and the flighty prince?”

“Nothing as salacious as what you’re thinking happened last night, if you need to know,” he sniffed between sips of the vulnerary. He found that talking between doses helped dampen the bitter taste of herbs and medicine.

Niles raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Honestly.”

Niles glanced over him with his good eye, looking thoroughly unconvinced, but shrugged dismissively. “What a pity.”

He widened his eyes, but snorted. “How so?”

“Oh _please_. You’ve been following that quick-tempered prince around like a dog in heat ever since we settled here—if you pardon my phrasing, my lord.” Niles crossed his legs. “I thought you would’ve gotten over yourselves after a night of alcohol and heavy petting.”

Leo choked on the remaining medicine.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Niles chuckled over the other’s hacking and reached over to pat his back. “Was that too much?”

“Yes,” he gasped, and pushed his hand off with his shoulder. “Not to mention utterly ridiculous.”

Niles said nothing (which, on his experience, was never a good omen), but his gaze lingered too long on Leo’s collar. He reached up to smooth out the material, feeling increasingly like an insect under a magnifying glass. Niles still stared. Leo scowled and asked, “What now?”

He smirked, and raised both eyebrows. “For all your claims that nothing happened, that’s a pretty impressive mark on your neck.”

Leo slapped a hand over his skin and stalked over to the full-size mirror tucked away in the corner of the tent. He pulled his collar back and, to his horror, revealed a dazzling purple bruise. It rested against the curve of his neck, just high enough to make concealing it nearly impossible. His mind provided him the image of the cheeky Hoshidan prince, who likely saw the mark and didn’t say a word. Not a fucking word to warn him.

He’d be sure to return the favor with a black eye.

Niles glided over to examine the damage and tapped his chin. “The Hoshidan prince is a biter, what a surprise.”

Leo breathed slowly. Slowly was good. Slowly meant that he could calm down before taking his retainer’s other eye. “Get out.”

“Oh, don’t be cruel,” he cooed.

He shook his head. “You know what would be cruel? Telling some of the riders in our troop where all of their missing crops have gone. That would be cruel, Niles.” There was a whimper behind him; he rolled his eyes. “No amount of crocodile tears will help this time.”

“That,” Niles started quietly, “wasn’t me, Lord Leo.” Leo blinked and turned around; Niles’ stance was defensive, his attention set on of his chests. Leo used it to hold his private collection of tomes when they were travelling on the road, and usually sealed it tight to prevent moisture from ruining centuries worth of magic. Upon closer inspection, however, the lid of the large box was ajar; he could hear a rustle of papers from inside.

Niles started towards it with knife in hand, but he stopped him with one hand and trekked closer himself. If there were a rabbit fox or possessed animal, fighting with a pocketknife would’ve been like trying to hunt a boar with a wooden sword.

The chest squeaked and whimpered. Leo swallowed.

With one kick swift to the top, the lid of the chest flew back and hit the wall of the tent. Leo quickly grabbed a tome from his table, ready to plunge a branch into the heart of whatever wandered into his tent, but froze before he could utter the incantation. “A…baby?”

The small bundle cried softly and wiggled its blanket feet. Instead of sitting on top of hard leather books, the baby lay comfortably in a makeshift cradle; blankets lay underneath and something that looked suspiciously similar to Leo’s favorite cloak cushioned its head.

As young as it looked, the babe seemed to be the only cool and collected person in the tent; it opened its eyes and looked up curiously when Leo hesitantly lifted it from its warm bed, and latched onto one of his fingers. Leo clenched his jaw.

Niles swept up to his side, and whistled. “You know,” he said softly, “most people wait until _after_ they’ve slept with each other to have children, but I’m not surprised. You’ve never worried about the status quo.”

They were so screwed.


End file.
